


Save Me

by BambooTeaWhisk



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: 69 (Sex Position), Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Animal Instincts, Biting, Blow Jobs, Bottom Jim, Come Marking, Dominance, Excessive moaning, Hand Jobs, Literally. So. Much. Sex., M/M, Marking, Masturbation, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Pon Farr, Rimming, Rough Kissing, Rough Sex, Scent Marking, Submission, They do switch it up just a little fyi, Top Spock
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-28
Updated: 2016-09-23
Packaged: 2018-08-11 12:51:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7893157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BambooTeaWhisk/pseuds/BambooTeaWhisk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim and Spock finds out how difficult it is to tame a Vulcan's primal urges to dominate, claim, and mate during pon farr - but will Jim escape unscathed?</p><p>Planned 10-15K of nonstop Spirk porn. Indulgently written and shared with all :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Before The Storm

**Author's Note:**

> Hello all, this is my second fic foray into the Star Trek fandom and it is - quite possibly - the porniest, kinkiest thing my brain could invent without squicking itself. I'm a huge fan of pon farr fics as there's something so intimate and vulnerable about the process, despite the distaste Vulcans traditionally associate with the subject, and I couldn't find a fic that encompassed all 3+ days of the ritual. Thus, I set out to conquer a new mountain - firstly, write smut for the first time, and secondly, write every single kink that I believe Spock and Jim would partake in. I've got myself a running list of 20+ kinks, most of which are tagged, but if you'd like to see something special, just comment and let me know!
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING: Pon farr is an interesting subject that one might consider it a little dub conn-y. I would like to put a blanket statement that I do not condone the absence of consent. Jim Kirk is fully aware of the consequences before he partakes in a relationship with Spock, even if he's a little unsure of the degree of intensity. All characters are well above the minimum age limit of consent.

“And the dermal regenerator’s got extra batteries in the cupboard to the left of the computer; the replicator’s been outfitted with at least thirty-five new food options consumable by humans and Vulcans alike – though the hobgoblin won’t be doing much eatin’, it’ll be up to you to feed him – and each of these foodstuff is certified to retain all thirteen vitamins and twenty-odd minerals necessary for optimal body function,” Bones babbles to Jim in the turbolift as a tricorder beeps happily next to his left ear.

Jim sighs.

Bones, as Dr. Leonard McCoy of the USS Enterprise is affectionately known as, has been straight up _fussing_ over Jim for the past week. Worse than a mama cat with her young, but Jim wouldn’t have said a word, lest Bones cites him for civil disobedience and forces a hypodermo against his neck to lower his adrenaline levels, or whatever ‘all good ship doctors do’. He’d be wise to keep his mouth shut and simply bear the overprotective anxieties emitting from his best friend. Jim’s best interest – apparently not including his emotional stability - is always Bone’s top concern, but at this moment in time – at this precise second spent stalling in an Enterprise turbolift - in the 3 rd millennium of marked Starfleet history, Bones is being annoying.

“ ‘Case you can’t get to the regenerator, I’ll be personally stocking your clean room with nutritive packets for quick ‘n easy access; the clean room was an ingenious idea, it’ll give me access to monitor your physical wellbeing and not interfere with pon farr, but I’ll be able to observe and intervene when your physical vitals drop below the sustainable limit for extensive physical activity-“

“You WHAT?” Jim yelps suddenly, clearly taken aback by the news Bones had just delivered him. An unauthorized clean room? And easy access? Not only is this ridiculous – Bones interfering in his personal business as usual – but this is a serious breach of safety regulations when pertaining to Vulcan mating cycles. “You’re going to be there with us? No, no, Bones-”

“ ‘Course I won’t be in the room with you, idiot; I’d rather not be picked apart by the vulture-, I mean, Vulcans -“

Pon farr is no easy subject to procure the necessary information on, so how would Bones’ have accessed the information? Jim’s mind is reeling quickly, and he briefly notes they had less than fifteen seconds until both men were aboard the bridge.

“That green-blooded hobgoblin insisted that no member of Sickbay was to interfere unless he was completely incapacitated against free will, so we’ve got protection measures installed to monitor from across a physical divide. Your hubby went ahead and calculated the necessary force restraint needed for a Vulcan’s physical exertion limits, so we took the liberty to construct a clean wall outside of your cabins, if you don’t mind-“

Woah. Too far. There are lines that nobody should cross, and Bones’ just violated one of Jim’s personal private ones – and he isn’t kinky, so vouyerism is definitely out of the window.

“Of course I mind, Bones!” Jim splutters, his mind finally catching up to the conversation. Unfortunately for the red faced Captain, the doors to the elevator opened and – low and behold – there appears the subject himself, Spock.

Jim, still startled from Bones’ last statement, simply gapes at Spock openly. His mind is shortcircuiting and he can’t figure out the minute displays of expression on Spock’s face, but considering that Spock looks slightly tense and avoids prolonged eye contact with Jim, he can tell his mate was distressed.

“Captain on zee bridge!” Jim hears Checkov’s voice ring out, but pays his navigator no attention as all of his mind is currently occupied on interpreting Spock’s emotion. What is it? He hadn’t seen this sort of emotion play out across his handsome features – it isn’t quite anger, but not sadness either. Some sort of mixture of the both of them-

Before Jim can speak, Spock asserts himself.

“Captain. I am to inspect a breach of a liquid nitrogen valve on Deck 7. I will return within thirteen minutes and approximately forty-two seconds.”

Jim starts. He blinks in response several times before his lips knew what words to form. Spock waits patiently, eyes fixed to a point two inches over Jim’s left shoulder. “Now wait right there, Spock, you can just send a member of Engineering to inspect the valve-“

“With all due respect, Captain, the matter is urgent and must be addressed immediately. I will attend to the issue myself and request that Dr. McCoy and yourself please exit the elevator.” Spock says, voice tight and a slight furrow in his eyebrow. Jim frowns; he reaches out with his bond to attempt to feel for a source of emotion, but feels… nothing.

Spock, for some reason, had shut off his connection to their bond.

Jim feels empty. Where previously flowed emotions of _love desire passion commitment_ now exists a raw edge, not quite painful but certainly numb. As a psi null, Jim’s human brain is incapable of sending messages to his bondmate, but with all his might, Jim tries to force the emotions of _concern affection worry_ to Spock as he is shunted out of the elevator by a harried Bones, fingertips grazing against the Vulcan’s.

The usual spark of electricity that flowed between their fingertips is muted, but certainly not gone. It wasn’t often that Jim was blocked from feeling Spock’s emotions; to be precise, it occurred precisely two other times – once when Jim was recuperating from the attacks of Khan – the doctors presumed the strong emotions would hinder Jim’s healing abilities – and the other when Spock was captured by an alien community on what was presumably an abandoned planet, and starved of all comforts for three days. Both times were conducted in the hopes of saving Jim, putting Jim first, even protecting Jim – and with the upcoming days of pon farr looming over their heads, Jim knows Spock was suppressing emotions with concern to Jim’s captaining ability.

Spock’s only acting out of professional duty, right? Jim wonders, but he does not have time to ponder more as he makes his way to his chair.

Once back at his console, Jim looks over his right corner to where his friend is standing. Bones looks thoughtful, staring back at the door to the elevator where Spock had departed seconds earlier. Jim briefly considers why Bones would be in such a pondering mood, when he realizes he had half a bridge staff looking at him expectantly.

Jim clears his throat awkwardly. He leans back in his chair and crosses his ankles, regally draping his arms on the armrests of his console chair. If he couldn’t look calm, he could at least fake it until the rest of everyone quit worrying about him. “Lieutenant Sulu, an update on our course?”

“We have passed the C36P Beta Quadrant of the Messier 51a galaxy with no immediate concerns, and all ship functions are progressing smoothly.” Liteunant Sulu returns smoothly, fingers expertly adjusting the console buttons on the console in front of him. His eyes are focused on tracking and navigating the current field in front of them. “We are not expected to navigate through another asteroid field for the next twenty-three hours. It will be smooth sailing from here.”

“Fantastic. Ensign Checkov, please report our current trajectory to our destination.”

“Captain, we ‘ave plotted a course for zee 3ZQ9 System in zee NGC 5159 galaxy, and are expected to reach the destination in approximately fiwe days and three hours with optimal cruising welocity, or four hours with varp capabilities… You are sure they vill not require our immediate presence? I can viquest for Scotty to fix the varp coils immediately-“ Pavel is virtually vibrating with excitement. The poor kid actually enjoys using FTL capabilities more than the average alien, but when one was raised on a farm in the middle of Siberia with only a 21st century textbook for the first half of their life, anything out of the ordinary would surprise.

Jim waves off his Ensign’s concerns. “Warp coils were fried beyond repair from the prominence emitted in our last mission. Stopping by a Starfleet post would certainly prove to be detrimental in our haste to arrive on time. We will continue without warp drive and arrive in six days.”

Pavel pouts so ferociously, Jim notices Hikaru attempting to fight back a grin, a rare occurrence for the Japanese male. Jim spent the better part of three months figuring out how to make Hikaru smile, and realized only two things could make the human crack a grin – discussion of his plants (which he tended to with absolute care in his personal quarters) and any signs of cuteness from Pavel. Fortunately for Jim, Pavel is always on hand to soften his helmsman’s heart.

“You sure you’re not post _pon_ ing because of… personal concerns?” Bones coughs from his corner. Despite his immediate concern for Jim’s physical wellbeing, he knew when to crack a joke to diffuse the tension in the room. Continuing, Jim begins scowling as Bones’ grin grows larger. “Are you sure you’re not feeling des _pon_ dent? You haven’t been corres _pon_ ding as usual.”

Everyone chuckles. The tips of Jim’s ears begins to turn pink. He refuses to let Bones’ jibes get to him; choosing instead to focus intently on the PADD in his hands.

 “Vat’s happening?” he hears Pavel whisper to Hikaru. Out of his peripheral vision, Jim sees Hikaru sympathetically pet their navigator on the head, a pitying expression on his face. Ah, the innocence of youth-

“I mean, we wouldn’t need to check for in _farr_ -ctions but we shouldn’t post _pon_ e your health checkup, Jim. Even Checkov here knows to res _pon_ d in a timely manner, and he lived on a _far_ r-mm.”

That’s it. Jim snaps, eyes narrowing in mock-irritation. “That last one didn’t even make sense, Bones.”

Bones just chuckles in return. By this point, everyone had turned around to openly stare at the interaction proceeding on the deck.

“ _Pon_ dering over the _far_ -fetched analogies, Jim?” Bones taunts, smile growing wider.

“More like wondering where your sense of doctorly morality disappeared,” Jim retorts, eyes traveling back to the PADD. “Back to attention, everyone.”

And within seconds, the bridge returns back to a busy hum. Jim sighs comfortably and cracks his neck from side to side, settling contentedly into his seat. He had just figured out the best bodily contortion to place minimum stress on his strained back – strained from hunching over his PADDs all day, Bones complained – when a page to his communicator sounds.

“Come in,” Jim calls, mind still absorbed in the text below him.

“Captain… I have been… incapacitated beyond minimal functioning capabilities…” Spock’s voice is faint through the comm. The entirety of the bridge’s crew heads swivels to stare at Jim, eyes opened wide. Jim swallows tensely and turns the volume of the communicator up. He could now hear the harsh panting of Spock’s breath – was it time already?

“Lieutenant Nuvaak… will...” Spock breaks to offer a muffled groan. “temporarily replace me… as… as Commander for the duration of this… illness… Spock out.”

Spock endes the connection and Jim leaps to his feet immediately. He could see how shaken his crew is by Spock’s message; what had seemed to be a light-hearted discussion about Jim’s personal affairs suddenly became a tangible, imminent threat. They knew their Commander and Captain were to be completely unavailable and isolated for a number of days, the precise number being unavailable as this was Spock’s first pon farr.

Jim has absolute confidence in his team. They have been warned months ahead of time and undergone preparations for dealing with any emergency that may crop up during his absence. He loves his ship and would go down fighting on it, but Spock took precedence in his heart for now.

He closes his eyes. “Lieutenant Sulu, you will have possession of the Conn in my absence.”

As Jim exits the bridge, he hears Hikaru make the first communication of his extended leave.

“Attention crew of the USS Enterprise. This is Lieutenant Hikaru Sulu reporting in for Captain James Kirk. Our Captain has been temporarily self-removed from duty and I have been selected to replace him in his absence. Proceed as normal, but exercise caution in situations of unfamiliarity. Do not provoke wherever possible. Sulu out.”


	2. The First Day: Embracing The Storm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Very NC-17, NSFW sex. You have been warned!

Jim has hardly made two steps into his quarters when he is immediately seized and drawn into a tight embrace. But just as quickly as this encounter happens, the hands disappears– fists are clenched and strained down by the sides of Spock’s Starfleet issued pants, and Jim _knows._

As Jim lifts his face to meet the eyes of his beloved, he is taken aback by the sheer desire and longing seen in Spock’s deep chocolate eyes. This is in stark contrast to his mate’s typical collected expression; the wild emotions ghosting over Spock’s face leaves Jim breathless. But he sees not only yearning and desperation, but an emote of fear and terror exists – Jim reaches out with his mind and attempts to comfort his mate, but again feels a gaping emptiness.

Spock still hasn’t lifted the ban blocking his emotions from being visible.

And yet, as Jim stands there, staring at his lover, he could see how desperately Spock’s body strained to hold him, caress him, and bear on him over and over again, yet Spock was resisting. But why? For what?

“Dearest, what is wrong?” Jim murmurs, hand moving to caress and gently massage Spock’s shoulders. He can feel the heat emitting from Spock’s skin, the temperature not even reduced by the thick layers of Starfleet undershirts and tunic that the Vulcan traditionally donned.

Spock merely moans in response and sways where he stands, dangerously threating to tip over.

“Spock, I’ve got you,” Jim says, voice panicking. All the preparations would be in vain if his lover continued resisting the pon farr. Hell, his session-that-will-not-be-mentioned with Christine Chapel going over the most potent and permanent lube brands was being put to waste-

Ever so delicately, Spock’s eyes flutter shut. His lashes rest gently against his pale cheek, paler than normal for the typically green-tinged Vulcan. Something is seriously wrong with his transition into pon farr and Jim can’t figure it out; he can’t help Spock if Spock wasn’t going to let him-

“Let me in, Spock, I can help you with this,” Jim pleads, clutching Spock frantically in both hands. He instinctively moves closer to support the other when Spock’s knees gave out and they collapse to the floor, a tangled mess of limbs.

In the silence broken only by the sounds of harsh breathing, Spock’s voice sounds thinly out. “Jim… I cannot… the pon farr has reduced my ability to rationalize…”

“We’ve been over this,” Jim yells, frantic at this point. Shit, he really should consider keeping his head cool, but when his mate’s threatened, it’s all Jim can do to not start screaming for Bones. “Spock, you can trust me. I’ve got you.”

“I cannot rationalize the desire to consume you… I cannot control the desire to _own_ you, to make you entirely mine…” Spock moans, body falling limp in Jim’s embrace. His hands clenches even tighter into a fist, and Jim sees the skin of Spock’s palms turn white with tension as his nails dug in. “I need to… I must-”

He breaks off as a sudden wave of sheer _lust_ rips through his body, arching his back violently against the rush of hormones. Jim struggles to hold Spock stationary in his arms, but fails as the Vulcan’s superior strength outstrips his human abilities.

“Spock! Stop resisting! That’s a command!” Jim yells, hands moving over Spock’s body frantically, searching for a way to draw the tension out of his skin. He is desperate enough to take advantage of his captaincy, a thought a saner Jim would never even consider.

“Jim… I cannot prevent myself from harming you,” Spock groans out, eyes screwed shut against the onset of punishing hormones. “My _t’hy’la_ , I will not harm you, I will not harm you,” he chants as if constant recitation of the phrase would bring back his focus.

There was no other option. Jim would force a meld upon Spock and make his mate directly confront reason – they were as prepared as one could be for an ancient mating ritual, and Jim understood the consequences for committing to a bond with a Vulcan. Jim would valiantly and unquestionably take a phaser to the chest for Spock, and trusted the other with his life. He knew no harm would come to his body with Spock present.

Wrenching Spock’s fingers back from his fist is a difficult process, especially as the Vulcan alternately writhes against the pain and heaves from the lust, but Jim separates his fingers at last and jams them against his meld points, bypassing the formalities and delving right into Spock’s mind-

As a psi null, he isn’t able to initiate communication to Spock outside of mind melds, but from within, Jim can read his mate’s emotions directly.

_Love hunger lust want desire mate fear pain distress guilt-_

“Spock! Get yourself together!” Jim yells, both within the mind meld and in the physical body. “I’ve got you, Spock. I’ve got you-“

_Trust._

_T’hy’la._

And with an animalistic roar, Spock gives himself over.

The Vulcan rips the mind meld apart as if it was reduced to mere putty – in response, Jim blinks blearily; mind melds were often difficult for humans to cope with – and immediately attaches his lips to Jim’s face messily, kissing frantically. Reduced to a carnal state, Spock had minimal control over his actions and his fingers scrape roughly against Jim’s clothing, leaving marks where human flesh peeks through.

Jim hisses at the bluntness, and whispers hotly against Spock’s sleek hair when the Vulcan dipped lower to suck a mark into his neck. “I’ve got you, Spock. You can trust me.”

Spock moans in response – desperate so quickly, Jim notes, before his little brain takes over. Spock lunges back up Jim’s body and begins rutting against his mate’s hip in an attempt to garner friction, _any friction_ , and reattached his lips to Jim’s. The friction against his clothes isn’t quite right, but it feels so good that he doesn’t want to stop. Rubbing his groin against Jim’s body relieves some of the tenseness building up in Spock’s body, but the flames are licking higher and he cannot resist any longer – Spock feels his control snapping, watching internally with horror as his physical body mauls his mate over and over again, helpless and unable to stop.

The kiss is far from anything Jim had ever experienced with his mate. Gentle brushes of Spock’s lips caressing his skin prior to today was only child’s play – the bruising force behind Spock’s lips is punishing, dominating, and all Jim could do is simply bear it. Only now is he experiencing the full strength of a Vulcan, one who is firmly pressed into every crevice and contour of his malleable human body, thrusts growing steadily stronger as Jim is horizontally shunted across the floor. Despite the cold hardness of the tiles chafing his back, Jim is fully committed to easing Spock through his heat and ignores all other physical stimuli not relating to Spock.

 It’s bruising, messy, and frantic, yet Jim is in love. He can’t get enough of Spock _\- he has to get closer_ -the sweet taste of Spock’s mouth leaving a cloying flavor on Jim’s tongue, which is currently deep in Spock’s throat; and despite all of Jim’s body pressed up to and in contact with Spock’s body, it suddenly didn’t seem enough.

Jim leans away to begin undressing, but Spock yanks him back to hover possessively over his frame. But his grip is too hard, much too hard for Jim’s weaker human bones to tolerate, and a slight yelp rings out.

“Spock, stay with me here,” Jim says weakly. He’s not sure whether his mate can hear him, but his reaction to pain seems to clock some reaction in the Vulcan. The look in Spock’s eyes shifts and Jim’s statement is swallowed when his mate leans down to lick at his lips. Jim’s head is spinning with the rush of adrenaline when Spock suddenly lifts his mental shield.

_Need ashayam pleasure please mine please please-_

Jim is overwhelmed. He gives himself over completely and lays limply on the floor, head tilted back for his mate to plunder. Spock’s fingers are continuously busy, first gripping tightly at Jim’s biceps for only a fleeting second before roughly sliding down to leave claw marks in Jim’s vulnerable underbelly.

 _Too harsh._ Jim yelps at the pain radiating throughout his abdomen, but Spock is moving on – his delicate green fingers grips the hem of Jim’s uniform top and proceeds to rip the tunic in half, shredding the reinforced fabric completely. As more skin becomes exposed, Spock’s actions grow frantic, fingers temporarily ceding from his brute removal of his mate’s clothing to sink painfully into human flesh.

Jim hisses at the marks and does his best to assist Spock with his undressing, but the other quickly pins both hands above his head with a single arm and proceeds to rip the rest of the garment off, snapping Jim’s neck painfully to the side on accident. Jim moans helplessly, completely immobilized by his mate, upper body bare to the room, made vulnerable by Spock’s desire. His mate moans harshly and drags his lips down to leave a dark mark on the base of Jim’s throat, directly perpendicular to the previous bruised mark left minutes prior.

Suddenly, the pressure alleviates. Spock sits up quickly, shrewd eyes calculating over Jim’s prone form. What was previously a panting, writhing Vulcan in heat unexpectedly transforms back into Spock’s normal self, stunned at the sight of his debauched mate below. He lift a single trembling finger to Jim’s face, but then Jim moans-

It is quickly muffled by Spock’s snap back into pon farr. Jim can’t tell how much time has passed, but suddenly he finds himself with a lapful of warm, naked Vulcan rutting frantically into his lower belly, his own pants tangled somewhere along his ankles. Somewhere in between Spock licking warm, wet stripes down his throat and nibbling at the tips of his ears, they’ve relocated to Jim’s bed, a considerably softer surface than the cold floor. Frankly, Jim is surprised how long Spock had lasted - all things considered - but then he peeks down and sees how painfully engorged Spock’s penis is, and understands how it was physically hurting his mate. His line of sight is interrupted when Spock brusquely thumbs his face back into alignment for a kiss – a long, deep kiss, tinged with want and desire.

Using all his strength, Jim pushes Spock off of his body, the Vulcan complying surprisingly, and awkwardly configures himself to directly face Spock’s cock head-on. Spock seems reluctant to give up control of Jim’s lips – keening when contact is broken – but settled into a soft hum when he latches onto the sensitive skin of Jim’s inner thigh, sucking a third bruise into soft flesh.

“Let me, Spock, trust me,” Jim chants as he slides a shaking hand up and down the shaft of Spock’s cock. “I’ve got you, you’re not going to fall-“

His mate lets out an inhuman roar and proceeds to rip Jim’s pants off his ankles. Jim is flabbergasted, mind clear from the lust forming, and desperately trying to work out how Spock was able to undress him in quite possibly the most efficient method possible, but the least conservative manner. He’s distracted when Spock moans- voice cracking adorably, Jim notes – and begins to lave at Jim’s cock. Bugger. He’d been hoping on holding out from getting hard for at least the first two rounds as Jim was fully aware of Spock’s continuous drive of lust.

But damn, did Spock know how to give a perfect blowjob. Three years in a relationship surely taught the sex-deprived Vulcan a few tricks in bed, and his mate knew exactly the techniques that would bring Jim to his knees. Without wasting any time, Spock hollows his cheeks and sucks Jim’s cock all the way down to the base, puffy green-tinted lips perfectly encircled around the girth of his shaft. Jim snaps his head back, eyes squeezed shut in exquisite pleasure, hips snapping forwards minutely as he is gratifyingly stimulated by his mate. Spock appears pleased by the response in his mate and growls deep in his throat, the reverberations sending vibrations throughout Jim’s cock and he _can’t_ , it’s too fast, and the sharp spikes of pleasure tickling the base of his spine reminds Jim how close he is flirting with the edge.

“Fuck, I can’t- Spock, fuck,” Jim gasps, head lolling back as pleasure overtakes his body. “It’s too much – I need you, Spock, please-“

Jim thrashes on the bed, not sure whether he wanted to get closer to the velvety softness of Spock’s mouth or further from the cliff edge, but his decision is made for him when Spock closes his eyes and begins to bob his head rhythmically along Jim’s shaft, tongue flicking expertly around the head as he rounds the top of Jim’s cock. Jim can feel Spock’s penis rubbing all over his front side, and it’s so warm, slick, and absolutely filthy. Never before has Jim felt more debauched than today, irises blown in lust and body fully exposed to his lover crouched possessively over his cock. Jim vaguely notes a thin spire of Spock’s natural lubrication glistening on the skin of his chest, and he briefly wonders how much lubrication is tangled within his hair when Spock relaxes his throat to swallow down Jim’s balls.

With a violent moan wrenched out of his throat, Jim comes for the first time of the day, warm semen spurting down his mate’s throat, eyes wide open to stare blankly at the ceiling. His mind goes blissfully blank for the span of a few seconds, body stuck in a limbo of pleasure and satisfaction, and Jim’s never felt such an intense orgasm before; he sobs out his pleasure, voice hitching with the intensity of all the complex emotions swirling throughout him – and then he’s slammed back into reality with his mate in the beginnings of pon farr.

Shit. He’d broken the first promise to himself – not coming before Spock did, lest he tire out unnecessarily early. But never mind, he had a needy Vulcan to attend to.

Spock’s contortion to perform oral sex on Jim’s cock put their body in perfect alignment for Jim to pleasure his mate in return. Jim, head significantly clearer than five minutes prior, delicately laps at the head of Spock’s cock, teasing his mate with tingling physical stimulations. The shaft of Spock’s cock is firm beyond all Jim’s experiences, tinged a dark sage shade and absolutely pulsing with the need to be touched and stimulated. Jim can feel his mouth salivating with the heady taste of his lover’s natural lubricant, and begins to slowly move his lips past the head and bob rhythmically.  Spock’s hands grip Jim’s thighs and pries them apart, opening up Jim’s most vulnerable body part for inspection.

Jim slurps Spock down as his mate sinks a single finger into his body, finger crooking to press firmly against his prostate. His lover has always had uncanny aim and precision for finding that spot – yes, _that_ one – and Jim moans around Spock, only a thin sliver of blue visible surrounding his blown irises. He’s so unbelievably turned on, and it hasn’t even been a full minute since his first orgasm, yet he can feel the faint stirrings of arousal burning in his groin. With his other hand, Spock begins manually stimulating Jim’s cock, it’s borderline too much, but the fondling of his balls combined with consistent stimulation to his prostate has Jim moaning desperately from around Spock’s cock.

Spock’s pressing kisses into Jim’s hip, and they devolve into full-on teeth-marking. He briefly pauses to fumblingly insert a second finger into Jim, but Jim doesn’t mind, the pain on his hip is secondary to the pleasure he is bringing his lover. He can feel Spock slowly rocking his hips into Jim’s mouth, and like a good mate, he relaxes his throat and unhinges his jaw as far as possible, allowing Spock to manipulate his mouth at his own leisure. Jim finds breathing quite difficult when his nose is pressed into Spock’s groin, but the scent of his mate’s musk is far from off-putting – if anything, it makes him more aroused, the spicy and pungent scent of Spock’s groin rubbing against his face, leaving scent marks that lasts for hours. Jim understands that marking one’s mate with their scent is a base instinct – even primal, animalistic - for Vulcans in pon farr, but he finds that he doesn’t mind the treatment at all. 

He can feel a hand gripping his cheeks open, certainly much harder than necessary and Jim _knows_ there’ll be handprints tomorrow, but he can’t be bothered when Spock’s openly thrusting into his mouth. The thick, hot wetness is sliding in and out of Jim’s mouth, head hitting the back of his throat and inciting Jim’s gag reflex, and he has to work frantically to suppress his urge to choke. But it’s too much, and Spock is rolling his hips into Jim’s face, and he _loves_ feeling used, he adores the feeling of being forced into submission. But alas, his air runs out - he’s choking on Spock’s cock, and it borderlines being too much when Spock’s hips began to stutter-

 _“T’hy’la,”_ Spock moans wantonly as his hips press firmly into Jim’s face. Jim’s taking it so well, he’s doing such a good job, and Jim tries to do the head-screwing technique that Spock’s quite fond of, but this angle makes everything a little difficult, but a final flick of his tongue seems to do the trick-

The world narrows down to a single point: Spock. His pleasure is first and foremost. Jim can feel how close Spock is to coming, and he wants – no, _needs_ – for his mate to come, to mark him for the first time in pon farr; It surprises him how animalistic he feels, but perhaps it’s reflective off of Spock and his emotions – and these thoughts vanish from his mind when Spock starts keening loudly, hips pulsing frantically into Jim’s mouth. He can feel a sudden rush of warm liquid, warm spurts trickling down his throat and over his lips. It’s sweet, much sweeter than human ejaculate, and Jim can feel it filling up his stomach with the sheer quantity.

Jim tries to swallow all of Spock’s cum, he really does, but it’s too much, and Spock doesn’t let up. He’s still got two fingers crooked inside Jim- which seized up when he orgasmed-, pressed firmly against Jim’s prostate. Despite Jim not being able to orgasm immediately, he yelps at the sudden pleasure flooding his senses, and pushes back for more, back arching prettily against his mate. He’s thoroughly pinned between Spock’s cock obstructing his mouth and Spock’s fingers pressed firmly in his ass, and he’d be damned if Spock doesn’t repeat this newfound technique after pon farr.

After what feels like minutes, Spock finally lets up and withdraws himself out of Jim’s mouth so quickly, Jim feels a sensation akin to gaping vulnerability. It’s pathetic: the need to be filled so thoroughly, but fortunately for Jim, he beyond any salvation of his dignity. Part of the edge has been taken off of Spock’s drive to mate – not enough to recognize Jim as anything more than his pon farr partner – but enough to drive off the harshest needs.

Spock begins fingering Jim in earnest, delicate fingertips brushing against sensitive insides as he methodically opens his mate up and prepares him for penetration. A third finger pushes in and Jim can feel himself moaning, but he’s so far out of his head that he can’t stop his sounds from echoing around their quarters. He briefly wonders what Spock is using to lubricate the stretch, but realizes that the natural lubricant secreted from Vulcan reproductive glands would be more than sufficient for adequate lubrication.

Kinky.

Jim can feel Spock yank at his hip to arrange his body in a new position, but he can’t keep his head straight as he’s being manipulated back onto the floor. He blinks a few times and notices that he’s slumped on top of Spock’s body as the other is reclined against the foot of their bed, groins pressed intimately together and feeling quite empty in his mouth, but especially in his ass. Jim moans weakly and tries to rub himself against Spock, but to his surprise, his mate growls at him.

Spock arranges Jim’s knees on either sides of his body and physically lifts his mate into the air. A split second hangs in the balance as they make eye contact, Jim briefly noticing how desperate and lustful Spock’s eyes burn, never more human than in this moment – and he’s being forced downwards on a blunt object.

Jim feels himself stretching too much, but Spock’s expression of sheer pleasure keeps him from protesting. Hands drift from his waist to his cheeks, and they’re spreading his hole wider, opening him up for his lover to plunder.

Abruptly, Jim realizes the beneficial position he’s in, and decides to take control for a brief amount of time while he still has energy to contribute. He digs shaky fingers into Spock’s shoulders – what he can’t feel won’t hurt him, Jim thinks – raises up on his knees, and sinks down as quickly as he possibly can, wincing from the slight sting.

Who cares if he’s skimped on preparation when Jim sees the look of absolute adoration gracing Spock’s face. It rejuvenates him, and he’s rocking back and forth, hips swiveling to see which motion can incite the most amounts of facial twitches. Jim’s nearly got a routine perfected when Spock takes over and begins shunting Jim down faster on his cock, a sense of raw lust driving their urge to copulate.

The hard flooring is beginning to hurt Jim’s knees, but before he can voice his discomfort, Spock flips them over such that Jim’s back is pressed into the cool tile, and he _yelps_ , the temperature change a shock to his fragile system.

Spock’s been reduced to his base instincts for quite some time, but from behind the lusty haze of pon farr, he feels pleased for Jim presenting like a proper mate. He’s so proud, so fucking proud of his mate for pleasuring him perfectly, back arched into Spock, ass wide open for his to take. Jim’s gorgeous like this, body contorting because of Spock, _all because of Spock,_ and spread out only for him-

He’s still thrusting when his orgasm takes over, and Spock can feel the come slicking against Jim’s hole as he fucks his ejaculation deeper into Jim’s body, a crude urge to push the semen even further up Jim’s channel for optimal fertilization. Spock can’t remember that Jim’s not capable of pregnancy when he’s in the throes of orgasm, head tilted back and neck bared for Jim to lick and suck on. He’s still fluttering his hips into Jim even after the ejaculation slows to a trickle.

Spock drifts down from orgasm and abruptly feels the desire to bring pleasure to his mate, but Jim shakes his head weakly and says, “Hold off a bit, t’hy’la, just give me a moment,” and Spock’s miffed for a second - no mate should ever reject his advances-, but he drifts his palms upwards and finds Jim’s nipples, perky and hardened against his chest.

As Spock fondles Jim’s nipples, he growls in satisfaction when he sees Jim’s eyes roll back in his head and his body seize up in pleasure.


	3. The Second Day: Weathering the Storm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realize that I had accidentally mis-typed Spock's name in the prior chapter as 'Sock', and didn't even notice the typo until two weeks later. Therefore, I dedicate this chapter to dear 'Sock', who obviously doesn't understand the limits of human strength.
> 
> Also, this was written in 3 hours while sleep-deprived, so please excuse any mistakes. Or point them out to me. 
> 
> WARNING: Very NSFW sex. Please check tags for any triggers!
> 
> Edit Update: OMG You guys, you never told me I misspelled 'pon farr' in the introduction! That's super embarrassing. Sorry about that!

_0237 Hours._

Despite the green light of the computer screen being the only illuminating source in the room, Jim can sense every motion, every minute physical shift.

He’s pressed facedown onto his mattress, yet their current situation looked as if that the possessor of the mattress is not him, but Spock. As Jim’s autonomy had long since been under Spock’s control, he’s been pushed up against the table, counters, and any flat surface within their quarters -, all at the whim of his lust-driven mate.

The subject himself is currently deeply embedded in Jim, thrusting as forcefully as when Jim was first breached all those many hours ago. Jim’s butt cheeks have long since darkened into an irritated pink color, yet Spock persevered with his punishing thrusts. Perhaps Spock proceeded even more eagerly as the Vulcan considered any physical marring of his mate during the throes of pon farr to be representative of fulfilling ancient Vulcanic claims.

Jim turns his face to the side and looks blearily at the projecting screen. _0239 Hours_. If he read it correctly, pon farr commenced over seven hours ago, and Jim is only now realizing the unquenchable passion and limitless physical stamina necessary for such ritual. Pon farr has been nothing but exhausting for Jim’s significantly weaker human body, and his physical limits have been far surpassed – even now, as Spock worms his hand between the sheets and Jim’s chest to fondle at Jim’s nipples, he finds it surprising how he is still able to feel trickles of arousal pulsing through his body. The jolts of sensation still wrings a hoarse keen out of Jim’s mouth, and Spock rubs harder in response.

The sensation of Spock’s bangs tickling against Jim’s neck has him twitching away – silly human reflexes, Jim thinks wryly – but a firmly gripped arm around his midsection has him nearly immobilized.

“You will not leave,” Spock hisses, “Th’hy’la, you cannot.”

Even now, the sounds of Spock’s husky voice has Jim melting in the sheets. He musters up his remaining strength to slide his hand from tucked beneath his head to resting above Spock’s other hand, braced for support next to Jim’s torso. It’s an awkward maneuver considering Spock relentless thrusting into Jim, but Jim can sense some emotional relief emanating from his mate.

Jim parts his lips to speak, but a sharp bite of pain pierces his lower lip before he can speak. He ignores his split lip in favor of pushing through the biting pain to whisper, “ ‘M not going anywhere, Spock.”

It’s painful and he’s so exhausted, he can hardly move, but Jim is relieved when Spock rests his forehead against his cheek in a symbolic gesture of apology. Or maybe he’s craving to be even closer to Jim than in seconds prior, not that being pressed chest-to-groin against Jim’s back is hardly close enough.

Spock’s voice catches on a low moan again, and his hips stutter. Jim briefly closes his eyes in search of light respite, but snaps them open again when Spock starts mouthing along the back of his neck. Their physical intimacies in earlier days had ventured nothing further than leaving faint hickies – Spock was mortified on his first occasion as recipient of a light green hickie conveniently located above his turtleneck collar – but now, he is brazenly licking and sucking at the skin of Jim’s neck, thoroughly engrossed in wetting it as much as possible. The Vulcan’s tongue is rough and sandpapery, akin to those of Terran felines, not that Spock would concede to the similarities - and Jim could not help but sigh in comfort when warmth enveloped the sensitive skin behind his ear.

However, the soothing sensation was only a fleeting sense of comfort before sudden, sharp pain – a pain so sharp, Jim gasps in response. Spock had sunk his teeth into the back of Jim’s neck, biting down ferociously and with enough strength to leave a significant mark, but carefully weighted to not pierce his skin. Pain radiates all down Jim’s spine and he flinches away, but a hand shoots out to pin his shoulder against the mattress, once more immobilizing Jim. He’s whimpering, it’s so painful, and he would’ve been embarrassed had he not felt so physically drained. Spock doesn’t relent for several seconds, and when he does, Jim collapses into the sheets.

“Not yet, my mate,” Spock croons. Jim didn’t even know Vulcans could croon. Hell, he didn’t know Vulcans could purr either, but obviously they could as a low deep vibration sounds out from the chest pressed against his back. Jim finds the vibrations comforting, and he snuggles back against Spock’s chest.

The pain abates as Spock begins laving over the mark. However, the pain in Jim’s lower half throbs relentlessly as his mate continuously thrusts his hips against Jim’s cheeks. His legs are hopelessly entangled within the bedcovers, but Jim weakly attempts to move them even further apart for deeper penetration, and Spock hums – _purrs harder?_ Jim can’t tell the difference – in response. The Vulcan gradually slows the speed to a measured pace, yet does not abate on the strength behind each drive of his hips. Jim would’ve been shunted nearly halfway across the mattress had he not been firmly gripped in Spock’s embrace.

Speaking of Spock’s grip, Jim can feel his mate’s hand – still tucked beneath his body, but slowly moving downwards to grasp at his cock pressed into the sheets. Jim’s already come several times, and Spock directly applying pressure on his most sensitive areas has him gasping in a combination of pleasure-pain. Spock continues to fondle him for several moments, rubbing his thumb repeatedly over the head of Jim’s cock and relishing in the sounds wrenched out of Jim.

The pressure’s building in his lower half and Jim can feel his prostate relentlessly abused, but he’s too tired to come again, much less ejaculate with nothing left in his body. But Spock doesn’t let up, and Jim’s wailing by the time he orgasms again, a dry orgasm ripping through his lithe frame and sending wracking sobs into the sheets. It was short, borderline painful, but his orgasm seemed to pacify his mate as Spock began driving his hips into Jim harder and faster.

With the hand that was previously holding down Jim’s shoulder, Spock reaches around for Jim’s meld points-

_Mate love must pleasure-_

A knock at the door startles both occupants, and Spock wrenches himself away so suddenly, Jim can feel himself leaking all over the mattress before he forces his muscles to contract and clench down on the seed left by his mate. It’s painful and tender, and obviously very sensitive, but never mind that – a knock at the door?

Bones’ muffled voice rings out. “Asshats, I’ve got you medikit at the ready. Standby for drop off.”

Jim has hardly a second to cover up before a blue light flickers on and a panel slides open. Two small parcels were thrust through and into the room, and Spock – from his position possessively protecting Jim – growls at them. Jim blinks wearily in confusion before realizing that Spock probably could smell Bones’ scent permeating the room through the slat, and the ancient Vulcan behavior in his mate would not have responded positively to an unfamiliar challenger.

But before anyone could move, Bones’ voice sounds again through the comm. “Use the regenerator, Jim. And the hyposprays in the kit – they’re pain relievers and adrenaline boosters, and one’s for stabilizing your electrolytes, they’re a little low. We’ll be monitoring your situation, so hang in there.”

“Thanks Bones.” Jim’s voice is scratchy coming out of his throat, but he weakly grins in response to Bones’ grumbles. He makes to stand up – face scrunching up at the mess he made moments earlier splattered across his stomach – but a warm hand rests on his back.

“I will retrieve them.” Somewhere, deep inside Spock’s body, is his former self, and Jim smiles up at his mate. The pon farr might’ve enhanced his sex drive and altered his mind with lust, but Spock’s incredible self-control had forced it aside in a guise of normalcy.

He stands up, body lean with subtle muscles rippling beneath the surface, and most notably – heavy erection standing stiff. Seven hours of stimulation and numerous orgasms had hardly dampened Spock’s stiffness. Jim visibly swallows, but Spock pays him no attention as he retrieves the parcels and places them in Jim’s lap to open.

Inside is several different nutritional shakes and a container of various fruits; popping open the lid to the fruits, Jim selects what appears to be a plum-pineapple hybrid conveniently pre-sliced and presses it to Spock’s lips. Warm brown eyes gaze back towards him as Spock accepts and chews on the fruit. It’s oddly intimate, and Jim feels breathless with the intensity of emotion between the two lovers as they continue to alternatively feed each other.

Once the container of fruit is consumed, Jim hands a drink to Spock and makes sure Spock’s already drinking as he turns back to the parcel for his own beverage. Bones had packed some sort of sickly pink electrolyte drink – unfortunately, the taste wasn’t as pleasant as the fruit preceding his drink, and Jim makes a face as he begins chugging the rest down.

Jim is mid-suck when he hears a stifled moan from on the bed. Spock had ceased consumption of his nutritional beverage and laid propped up on the pillows crowding their headboard, hand working over his penis rhythmically. While Jim is watching, Spock moans again, and begins rocking his hips up and into his palm, eyes darkening quickly.

Jim gulps. Getting Spock to pleasure himself while he watched was a difficult feat indeed, and yet the Vulcan laid brazenly across their bedspread, fingers openly massaging his cock, rubbing circles up and down his shaft, absolutely shameless.

“Jim, I must ask you to cease your meal; I fear my control is slipping once more and I do not desire to take you while injured,” Spock groans. He fondles a particularly sensitive area on his cock right beneath the head, throwing his head back into the pillows as Jim watches open-mouthed. Jim almost chokes on his drink as Spock lets out a high-pitched whine, and quickly discards his beverage in favor of reaching for the other parcel.

Fortunately, the hyposprays are easily self-applied and Jim can easily reach behind himself to apply the regenerator on his sensitive hole, dark eyes tracking every moment.

 

“Think that’s everywhere,” Jim says weakly when the regenerator flashes a blue light. He prods at his skin, and it tingles and still burns a little, but the regenerator should be a temporary patch until his next break. The rest of his bruises and scrapes will have to remain until pon farr is over, but at least he manages to deal with the most severe of his injuries.

“You remain injured, my t’hy’la.” Spock’s voice is unusually gentle despite the fire burning in his eyes. Jim watches as he visibly suppresses a shiver in his body, forcing his delicate Vulcan fingers into a tight fist before unclenching them to caress at Jim’s lip.

Oh. Jim had forgotten about his split lip. He raises a hand to his face, noting several other fluids congealing on his skin – a combination of precome, Vulcan semen, saliva, and blood – and winces as he touches his lip. Spock reaches for the regenerator, fingers still trembling in his suppression of the pon farr lust, and begins to run it across Jim’s lip.

This moment seemed tenderly intimate, a quiet lull in the frantic pace of pon farr mating and lust-driven sex. Jim closes his eyes briefly; when he opens them again, Spock’s eyes are curiously black and pinned to his bottom lip. He can feel his skin knitting back together, the flesh rebuilding underneath the regenerator. Only a few more seconds are remaining until the regenerator is finished, but Jim doesn’t think Spock can wait that long-

A heartbeat passes, and the regenerator lays abandoned in the sheets as Spock clutches at Jim’s jaw frantically, leaving messy kisses all over the human’s face. Jim’s too far gone to protest, and simply tips his head back to moan wantonly beneath Spock’s affections. A fever-hot hand snakes behind Jim’s head to grip at the nape of his neck, and Jim can feel his eyes fluttering once again, the relief of submitting thrumming beneath his pulse.

Spock’s shifting without disconnecting from Jim’s mouth – and then Jim’s being pushed downwards, a heavy palm molding him into a seated position  on the floor. The tongue that was previously exploring the inside of Jim’s mouth was wrenched away, and Jim blink a little dazedly before regaining his senses. He looks up and sees Spock’s eyes shining so ominously in the darkness, and Jim knows what his mate expects of him.

He tilts his head back obediently, mouth falling open, and Spock reaches down to thumb at his lower lip. To the Vulcan, Jim’s mouth is so pink, so incredibly human, and all _his_ – he groans loud enough to send reverberations echoing throughout their quarters, and crowds his hips against Jim’s face.

Jim is still staring into Spock’s eyes as the Vulcan gently leads his head onto his erect. Jim’s lips are so soft, so pillowy, and Spock groans in satisfaction as they part to encircle his cock snugly. Jim is the perfect mate – he can’t leave Spock, not even for a day, and Spock only wants Jim to stay in his bed, naked and waiting for Spock to come back every day, hungry for Spock’s seed, which he would save to feed exclusively to Jim; Spock would relish every opportunity to ravage Jim’s body, taking him over and over again-

Spock spends a fleeting second thinking of the nutritional benefits of Vulcan semen before Jim reaches up to grip at Spock’s hips, lips finally reaching the base of his erection. His nose is pressed into the wiry hair of Spock’s groin, and the scent is musky and slightly spicy, scent genetically designed to be an arousing chemical concoction. He breathes in deeply, eyes fluttering shut and pulls off a little bit, tongue continuously working around the girth of Spock.

Spock’s voice breaks on a sob, and Jim’s hand presses into Spock’s abdomen, palm perfectly aligned above Spock’s beating heart. He can hardly breathe, and he doesn’t want to move lest Jim removes himself from Spock’s arousal, and fear strikes through Spock’s heart with a sudden thought – _what if Jim left him?_ What if Jim is only cooperating out of obligation and not receiving pleasure in return; Spock feels torn in half between _taking what is rightfully his_ and trying to please his mate, and all he wants is for Jim to be _happy_. He couldn’t bear the next thought - what if Jim felt _violat-_

Jim’s palm presses a little more firmly against Spock’s heart, and Spock can feel his mate trying to project some sort of emotion through, but psi nulls could not emote without assistance. Spock reaches down to press fingers into Jim’s meld points and rekindles their link, intimately connecting his mind into Jim’s consciousness.

He’s only able to make a single word out through Jim’s convoluted mind: **_love._**

Spock can’t bear it. He resurfaces back into their present moment, and sees Jim diligently working at stimulating Spock’s arousal, focused on pleasing his partner. He’s sucking Spock deeper, causing jolts of pleasure and relief throughout Spock, and thoroughly sending saliva dripping down his chin with his efforts. Spock groans in response, hips lightly thrusting into a weak beat, fingers twisting in Jim’s hair to warn him of his impending desires.

Blinking in acknowledgement, Jim sits back and braces his hands on the floor, eyes closing shut. Spock begins thrusting harder, relentlessly fucking himself in Jim’s mouth, and he actually _keens_ in pleasure. He feels so disconnected, the only sensation tying Spock into the moment is the feeling of himself rubbing, marking his scent on the inside of Jim’s mouth, and it feels _so right._

Jim is completely pinned between Spock’s fingers in his hair and his cock firmly driving into his mouth, and all he can do is focus on his breathing. Between the moisture building and the hair brushing up against his face, obtaining the necessary oxygen for brain function grows increasingly difficult, and Jim begins gasping for air, yet Spock does not relent. If anything, his thrusts grow faster, and Jim starts to choke – his eyes are watering, mucus is flooding from his nose, and saliva is strewn all about – yet he feels absolutely exhilarated. Spock fists Jim’s hair to the point of pain pricking his scalp, and keens loudly. Spock can feels his balls tightening, ready to unleash another load upon his mate. His Vulcan instincts urge for him to orgasm as many times as necessary for impregnation, and despite Spock’s acknowledgement of the 0% chance of pregnancy between the two of them, he feels the urge to come as many times on top and inside of Jim as possible. His thighs begin clenching, muscles bearing down and he tosses his head back on a scream, fucking Jim’s head furiously through his orgasm.

Jim’s eyes are firmly shut as Spock comes hard down his throat, tongue working in circles on the backside of Spock’s cock to milk every drop out of his cock. Spock groans in pleasure and satisfaction when his mate continues sucking after all his seed has been ejaculated, even through the last pulses of Spock’s hips against Jim’s lips, and only ceases when Spock pulls himself out.

He loosens the fist in Jim’s hair and Jim falls back onto the ground, gasping beautifully, a thin trail of saliva dangling from his reddened lips. His human simply lies limply on the ground where he collapsed, body thoroughly debauched. Spock leans down to grip Jim by his armpits, hoisting his mate into a standing position to headily lick at his mouth.

If possible, it appears that Jim’s lips have grown even puffier, and Spock nibbles on the bottom lip, tasting his sweetness off of Jim’s tongue – it strangely arouses Spock, an act he wouldn’t even have considered outside of pon farr, and his erection doesn’t even have the time to wilt before he’s carrying Jim back towards the bed.

“Fuck, Spock, you’re insatiable,” Jim jokes, but his voice is too weak for Spock to ignore his mate’s condition. Setting Jim down gracefully on the bedspread, he begins to voice his objections, but Jim silences him with a single finger to his lips.

“Do me again, please,” Jim pleads. His blue eyes are so vibrant, they almost blind Spock with the emotions pouring out of his soul. “C’mon, I can handle it, t’hy’la…”

It’s the usage of the Vulcan affection that resolves Spock’s determination. He gently arranges Jim in a position remarkably similar to an earlier session, on his knees with his hips raised, tilted back towards Spock. Jim twists his head around to stare pleadingly at Spock. “You can fuck me again, Spo-“

His voice breaks off in a moan as Spock trails a warm tongue across Jim’s recently healed hole. It’s small and puckered, but still pink from its earlier abuse. Spock laves across it, tongue running down his crack and pushing inwards when he reaches Jim’s hole. Even covered in a number of unidentified fluids, Jim still tastes delicious, and Spock licks brazenly at the come seeping out of his mate. Jim’s thighs are trembling as he muffles a moan with his fist, but Spock doesn’t like the idea of his mate stifling his sounds. He leans backwards and says, “I wish to hear you, Jim.”

 Quiet moans are wrenched from Jim’s glorious lips as Spock resumes his prior activity. He alternates between penetration and licking, and Jim’s an absolute mess in his hands by the time Spock reasons him clean. Spock presses his face into Jim’s cheeks, moaning as he reaches behind to finger himself.

Deeming himself sufficiently loosened, he leans back from Jim’s body and begs with his eyes, fingers still firmly pressed inside himself. His mate realizes what he wants only a second too late as Spock flips him over, firmly seating himself on Jim’s cock in a matter of mere seconds.

“That was unexpected,” Jim chokes out, eyes rolling back in his head as Spock swivels his hips expertly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I can't believe I wrote this either. 
> 
> My favorite moment was writing Spock masturbating in front of Jim - I know this story isn't plot driven (at all), but I do like how Spock is more comfortable with expressing his sexuality towards Jim. It's the baby steps of trust that just *clutches heart*


End file.
